Of the four families of sea turtles to emerge 

 from the Cretaceous Period 65 to 70 million years 

 ago, two families remain — the Dermochelyidae 

 with its single member, the leatherback, and 

 Cheloniidae, the hard-shelled sea turtles. All of 

 them are now considered either endangered or 

 threatened. 



Meanwhile, some feel livelihoods are being 

 threatened by regulations that protect turtles. 

 Foster, who currently works under contract with 

 NMFS on the Marine Mammal Take Reduction 

 Team says, "It would be difficult to find any 

 commercial fisherman who believes there's a 

 shortage of turtles, just because they're getting 

 more and more of them." 



"Most fishermen have nothing against 

 turtles," says Foster, "but sometimes it's hard for 

 them to see the justification" for closures. 



"Sometimes it doesn't make sense why they 

 close one area when they know there are turtles in 

 other areas, too," Foster explains. 



Godfrey says it is possible that there are 

 more strandings reported because there are more 

 turtles. "The increases can also be due to more 

 people looking," he says. 



Evidence linking the 1999 mass stranding to 

 the flounder fishery was circumstantial. But, says 

 Godfrey, "the fishery started up and within a 

 week there was a huge stranding event. . . .That's 

 pretty good evidence." 



Gearhart speaks of the difficulties of 

 accurate population assessments. "Anecdotally, 

 from what people on the water are telling me, 

 they're seeing more. It makes sense, because 

 we're protecting them," he says. 



'It's a real 'Catch 22' for our fishermen. The 

 more we protect, the more there are. And the 

 more there are, the more will be caught," says 

 Gearhart. 



Total strandings for 1999 were 605 turtles. 

 In 2000, the number rose to 888 and dropped to 

 361 for 2001, according to data supplied by 

 Godfrey. 



Numbers of turtle strandings fluctuate each 

 year, Godfrey says. But, he adds, "Whether there 



are 500 or 800, they're all too high." 



McClellan agrees. Regardless of what the 

 actual population of sea turtles is, she explains, it 

 is unlikely that losses that high can be sustained 

 without irreparable harm. 



Bn^e^ter 



For McClellan, a typical day of fieldwork 

 begins the night before when she calls pound net 

 license holders to ask if they will be going out the 

 next day and if she can accompany them. 



A frequent response is "hesitation," she says. 



It can take many attempts to coordinate 

 fishing trips with research. From calls to nearly 50 

 fishers, the team has gone out with fewer than 10 

 — but McClellan says the research team has 

 accompanied some boats multiple times. 



It's a go on a particular fall evening when 

 Howard Gaskill, commercial fisher and ferry 

 worker, agrees to allow the researchers to follow 

 him and his brother, Kenneth, to their pound nets 

 the next morning. 



The study is designed to coincide with the 

 flounder gill net fishery, says McClellan, but 

 pound nets, which impound turtles while allowing 

 them to surface for air, are more likely to yield 

 turtles alive and in condition suitable for tagging. 



At the Duke lab, the research vessel Proteus 

 is hitched to a truck and ready to go by 5:30 a.m. 

 Fishers won't likely wait for tardy researchers. 



There is, perhaps, an ominous feel to the 

 cool, drizzly darkness, but to Waples and 

 McClellan, it seems to be just another day in the 

 field. Later, when the water is choppy and the 

 drizzle gives way to intermittent rain, the two will 

 keep queasiness at bay with Goldfish — crackers, 

 that is. Preparedness pays. 



Out past a spoil island — a byproduct of 

 dredging — near where the Pamlico gives way to 

 Core Sound, the Gaskills reach the first net. 

 Howard, thumbs up, yells, "We've got a turtle." 



McClellan wrestles the loggerhead which 

 appears to be at least half her own weight, aboard 

 the Proteus. The turtle goes into a circular, foam- 



lined blue tub, and McClellan begins her 

 assessment with Waples recording data. 



The researchers pronounce the turtle a 

 "virgin," bearing no preexisting tags. McClellan 

 confirms this by scanning the turtle with a Starship 

 Enterprise-type device. The scanner would detect 

 implanted PIT tags, or passive integrated 

 transponders, which carry identification from 

 previous encounters with researchers. 



To the iininitiated, the creature in the tub is 

 — wow — a sea turtle. McClellan sees more. It's 

 not moving enough, and it has so many barnacles, 

 that McClellan suspects it has been lethargic for 

 some time. She describes it as skinny and pale. 



This turtle will not be tracked by satellite, 

 will not sport a $2,000 transmitter. McClellan 

 confers with Godfrey, who personally will deliver 

 the lethargic loggerhead to the Karen Beasley Sea 

 Turtle Rescue and Rehabilitation Center at Topsail 

 Beach. 



But first, while still on board the Proteus, 

 McClellan follows a NMFS protocol, including 

 placing a PIT in a front flipper, and metal tags on 

 both rear flippers. 



Measurements are made by McClellan and a 

 biopsy is taken from a flipper for genetic studies. 

 A blood sample from the turtle's neck will 

 determine its sex. 



There is no sure way to tell a juvenile turtle's 

 sex by looking at it, McClellan explains, but she 

 gives a large-ballpark figure for its age. "Little 

 turtles stay in the ocean until between 10 and 14 

 years old," before returning to the sound. This 

 one's age is probably between 14 and 30, she 

 says. 



Loggerheads lay eggs on North Carolina 

 beaches. When discovered, nests are watched over 

 by volunteers with the N.C. Turtle Project. 

 Hatchlings find their way to the ocean and 

 navigate using cues such as "celestial bodies (i.e., 

 light). . .silhouettes, waves and currents, and 

 magnetic fields," McClellan explains. 



"The babies go out to the Gulf Stream for an 

 undetermined period of time," says McClellan. 



But where specifically they go — and what 



18 WINTER 2003 



